The Fledgling
by Wylrin
Summary: What would have happened if Lucien Lachance had been Speaker when Vicente Valtieri had been recruited?


**Author's Note: Hello! This is my first story posted on here. I've posted this story before on DeviantArt, and now I'm making this my first story posted here. I wasn't sure what to put for the rating. I personally don't think there's anything bad in it. If anything it's for some unspoken violence. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the story! **

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In all his time as Speaker, in all his time with the Black Hand, he wasn't sure he's ever seen anyone look so miserable.

Surely, he's taken life; seen the looks of pure terror on his victims' faces. Some begging for mercy while others were either so foolish or so desperate as to fight back. He's seen his targets' families mourn for the loss of their loved one; some crying out desperately, as if they could ever come back, some angry and seeking vengence on the one who committed the terrible act, not knowing this feat was impossible at best. Some were simply too skaken or too grieved to show any true emotion on their faces - pity. And there were those who were foolish enough to believe their lives could no longer function without that one, insignificant person.

But this... no, this was different. For the person who so clearly suffered before him was to be his family.

The Listener had told him of this man. Boy, really, in his mind. He was so young... so fresh... and that had been taken from him in one single bite. He didn't know too many of the details, but from what the Listener had informed him, this boy was nearly broken. From what he knew, the youth had endured three days of sheer agony after having encountered the vampire. Strange, for the effects of vampirism were hardly noticeable until it took its full toll, but clearly not for this one. Having become a creature of the night, he lived as any of them lived; an animal. A scared, confused, and _hungry _animal.

Ungolim told him a strong will this one had. He didn't bother to ask how he knew all this, for the Dark Brotherhood had a set of eyes and ears that even the Thieves Guild could not match. For apparently, it was several days before the young vampire finally succumbed to his thirst. But when he did, the effects were devastating, for both him, and the people that were so unlucky as to pass him by. The boy clearly had a knack for stealth, for he had managed to penatrate the city walls undetected. But biting three necks, as reports claimed, does not go unnoticed by guardsmen. _Three, _he had thought. _Must have been famished... or wild beyond control..._

Either way, the vampire had barely managed to escape, as was still clear as he stood before the fittfully sleeping creature, his shirt torn and his wounds only having healed considerably from him having just fed recently.

But this was not what piqued the Black Hand's interest, no. If it had, the Dark Brotherhood would be more of a vampiric cult. No, the kills the vampire had made had been made to sustain himself, not in cold blood. But it was soon after these events that the vampire did capture the attention of unknown forces. Quite simply, his sire returned.

He did not know why, nor did he care too much to know why. It was made clear the older vampire had no desire to take up his fledgling when he left him for dead. Perhaps he wished to end the boy's life while he was still quite vulnerable, or perhaps he found the other's suffering to be amusing. _Vampires. _

Either way, it did not matter. Nor did it matter what had provoked the young creature. He had killed his sire, in cold blood, with hatred coursing through him. Whether it was revenge for what the elder of them had did to him, or out of defense (now that he thought of it, some of the cuts on his body _did _look more recent), did not matter. What did matter was that he had unknowingly turned the Black Hand's attention to him, and was now a potential family member.

Which was why he, Lucien Lachance, now stood before him while he slept.

The assassin watched the younger one with cold eyes, as he often did. You could tell a lot about a person from how they slept. Looking at him, his trademark phrase _'You sleep rather soundly for a murderer' _did not suit the boy well at all. He jerked often in his sleep, his eyes moving rapidly beneath his eyelids. If vampires could sweat, he would have been.

Part of him wanted to wake him then, but he told himself the intensity of his vampiric dreams would only strengthen his fear towards him. So he waited until the vampire calmed in his sleep before he debated his approach on waking him.

Normally the chill in the air Lucien possessed would be enough to wake one of his potential recruits, but being a vampire in cold blood, the icy air would not bother him, much less rouse him from his slumber. He ruled out shaking him awake immediately, as not only their closeness but the contact between them would only frighten him furthermore.

He decided to attempt speaking to him. The murderer had encountered some before that slept like the dead to any provocation, but awoke at the sound of a voice.

Readying himself for the possible outcome, he murmered calmly, "Vicente."

The vampire bolted awake as if a thunderclap had sounded above him. When his eyes finally found the source of the sound, he scooted away putting as much distance between them as he could until his back collided with the stone wall of the cave (he had slept on the stone floor, poor thing).

The younger one took in the sight of the man standing before him in black robes and hood, wisping with a soft light as if enchanted, with frantic flicks of his eyes. When his panicked mind finally registered what he had said, he managed to sputter, in a voice thick with a Breton accent, "W-who are you? How did you know my-"

Lucien raised a hand to silence him, and told him softly, "Hush, my dear child. All will be known to you in time. But to answer your inquiry, I am Lucien Lachance - one of the four Speakers of the Dark Brotherhood. As for how I know your name, the Dark Brotherhood is one with shadow. We see everything."

Vicente had heard whispers of the Dark Brotherhood. He knew they were a group of paid assassins, but little more. Here in Morrowind, the Dark Brotherhood was practically a forbidden subject.

Trying to suppress his trembling, the vampire managed, "Then you're here to kill me?"

"Quite the contrary, dear child, quite the contrary," Lucien smiled slightly under his hood. "As a matter of fact, I am here to offer... a proposition... to join our rather... unique... family."

Vicente visibly shook at that, "To become... one of you?"

Lucien inclined his head slightly. "Mmm," he made a small noise of confirmation.

The vampire's breathing was slightly irregular now, and his face was contorted with pain, "But what I did... I couldn't... I wasn't in control. I... I couldn't stop..."

"Indeed so," the Imperial agreed. "Which is the reason I have not come to you for that... little incident."

"What, then?"

Lucien raised an eyebrow, "You know."

Vicente shook his head, "He -"

"It does not matter," the robed man stopped him. "It does not matter why. All that matters is that you killed him. You took his unlife without pity or remorse. You are a murderer... just as we are, all the same."

The other stared at the floor, simply shaking his head. When he finally looked back up, his eyes glistened with tears. Through his somewhat blurred vision he could still see the man take a step towards him. He gasped slightly and pressed his back hard against the wall, willing himself to disappear, almost wishing the man before him _had _come to take his tainted life, if only to put an end to his misery, and the misery he caused other people.

Lucien stopped seeing the vampire's reaction. Ungolim had warned him of this. Vicente was scared, confused. He wanted someone to cling to yet was too afraid to let himself get close to anyone, or for anyone to get close to him. He feared he would only hurt them, or that they would hurt him. He would have to be very careful, and very gentle. And very patient. And patient he was.

He needed the fledgling to trust him, so he did something he rarely ever did, even in front of his family. He slowly removed his hood, pulling it back to reveal his face. He looked at the vampire before him, soft pink eyes meeting his own deep brown ones. Such a simple act, it was. Yet he was showing Vicente a side of himself that he could more easily trust. Rather than a faceless killer standing shrouded in darkness before him, Vicente now saw a human, capable of emotions in those cold eyes. It frightened and soothed him at the same time, and he found himself growing stiller, his tense muscles relaxing.

Lucien crouched down so that he was now at eye-level with the vampire, but the fledgling's eyes were now focused on the floor. He seemed dazed, lost in his own thought, before he finally said, "I'm not a monster..."

The assassin shook his head, "No. You are not a monster. You're just a child. A child that no one can or will feed."

Vicente shivered so much that it was almost a jerk at the analogy. He closed his eyes, not bothering anymore to suppress in tears which now streamed freely down his face.

"But the Night Mother does not let her children starve, for she loves them so," Lucien continued softly. "She provides her children with contracts so that we may slaughter in the name of our Dread Father. So that we may serve him. For you, it could be not only that, but your lifeline, as well."

Lucien had been carefully inching closer to the vampire while he spoke. He knew this could be dangerous, but he wanted to be close to him. He wanted the younger one to know that he was safe with him. When Vicente did look up at him, he was not startled by his closeness, it seemed... _natural. _

The assassin smiled softly. With a gloved hand, he carefully wiped away the stream of tears on the other's pale face. His smile became warmer still when the vampire leaned slightly into his palm, seeking what warmth and comfort it offered. _Good, good. It's okay... you can trust me. _

"There's so much we can give you," he breathed. "A home, a place of comfort and safety. A family, one that understands you and embraces you for what you are... There's so much I can show you. I can teach you to control your instincts, your hunger. I can help you tame the animal within you, and help you hone it, so that you can use it to your advantage. With my guidance, and your loving family, we can give you so much, so that, in your own time, you can give us just as much, and more."

Vicente had broken down into sobs by now, shuddering violently. Lucien looked down at him, with, was it truely sympathy in his eyes? Or a trick of the light? Either way, he wanted nothing but to comfort the vampire in front of him, considering him as, though he had not yet made his consent, his brother. His little brother. Who desperately needed love and affection.

Yes, this was a cold blooded killer. A cold blooded killer who's mercilessly disciplined and punished his younger brothers for their more unforgiveable mistakes. But Vicente did not need discipline. Not now, anyways. That would come later. Right now he needed someone to trust. And Lucien intended to give him just that.

He gently wrapped his arms around the smaller man. For a moment, he did not know what the vampire's reaction would be, but he was pleasently surprised when he not only accepted the embrace but returned it, wrapping his own arms around him tightly like a boy hugging his mother during a storm, and resting his chin on his shoulder. Lucien held the still shuddering youth, gently tracing small circles on his back with his fingertips, hushing him softly until the sobs receded.

Still holding him as a protective parent would his child, he murmered, "You need not make your descision now..."

"No," Vicente surprised him with his response. "I wish... to join your family..."

Lucien smiled, "_Our _family now, brother. _Our _family."

It was then that the two emerged into the night, disappearing in the darkness, heading toward the Cyrodiil border, and Cheydinhal. Home.


End file.
